


Frying Pan

by paxnirvana



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-26
Updated: 2010-07-26
Packaged: 2017-10-12 15:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paxnirvana/pseuds/paxnirvana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoro makes a poor choice...</p><p>(Nakama!)</p><p>fixed a few format errors. grrr. *waves fist at import function*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frying Pan

Zoro stormed down the ladder into the men's cabin of the Going Merry with the slack body of the ship's cook slung over one shoulder. Thick blond hair waved bright against the green of the haramaki around his waist, the long, lean, dangling arms encased in black trailing limp past his hips; Sanji was completely unconscious. The egg-sized lump on the back of his head most likely had something to do with that fact. Chopper and Usopp leaped to their feet, eyes wide, mouths practically dragging on the floor in shock.

"Zoro!! Wh-what happened to Sanji?!"

"Saaaanjiiiiiiii!!" Chopper wailed, running in small, panicked circles where he stood, his half-hoof hands waving wildly over his head.

Zoro stalked over to the big couch and dropped the limp chef down on the cushions with seemingly little care. Sanji bounced once, heavy limbs and slack body somehow not falling off onto the floor. A single hand did fall to the floor, to lay there inert, palm turned up. Zoro loomed above the couch, and folded his arms over his chest as he glared down at the man he'd dropped there.

After a few (well, 25 or maybe 30) seconds of hyperventilation, Chopper finally remembered he was the ship's doctor and dove toward his bag with a yelp and a stammered apology -- but froze halfway there at Zoro's hoarsely barked, "Don't bother!" The reindeer-turned-partly-human turned his head slowly back, quivering in place. "He's fine," Zoro went on, a sharp curl to his lip as he stared down at the cook. "I just hit him over the head with a frying pan so I can fuck him in peace for once." He shrugged. "It wasn't even hot."

Usopp, who had been dancing in place too, both hands clamped to the side of his face in distress, froze suddenly, eyes wide and rolling, mouth agape.

"Y-you... h-hit him... with o-o-one of _his_ frying pans?" Usopp managed to get out from between chattering teeth. His dusky skin had gone sheet-white and sweat was starting on his upper lip. He looked even worse than the first time they'd wandered into a Calm Belt and seen the first hundred or so of the colossal monsters that lurked there, Zoro supposed. He snorted in annoyance. Why would Usopp be looking at him that way now? He should know better than to think Zoro was going to bash him over the head with anything to get sex from _him._

He heard a sniffling wail from the other side of the room. Zoro's dark gaze flashed from the long-nosed liar to the Devil Fruit-mutated reindeer instead. Chopper was frozen too, one foot in the air, even his horns almost visibly wilting as Zoro pinned him with a dark glare.

"I'm just gonna fuck him. Get out if you don't wanna watch."

"NiceknowingyouZorotrynottogettoomuchbloodonmystuff'kaybye!" he heard, but before he could turn back, Usopp was gone out the upper hatch like a blur, hands and feet thudding like gatling gun fire on the ladder rungs as he went. Zoro looked back at Chopper who blinked once. Twice. Then puffed up to Guard Point without even chewing a Rumble Ball first. Zoro blinked. He hadn't thought the little guy had it in him - he was getting stronger all right... so what were the big sloppy tear-dripping eyes for?

"Zoroooo... ohhhh... Zorooooo! I'm gonna miss youuuuu!" Chopper wailed, then transformed to Leaping Point and bounded out the upper hatch without touching a single rung of the ladder. Zoro glared after his vanished crewmates, annoyed, but not alarmed by their idiotic and craven behavior. He was used to it, after all. They just usually had more _reason_...

He turned back to the couch. Flinched back slightly to find Sanji sitting up already, a hand held up to what was really rather a good-sized lump on the back of his head. Hm. He just might have put a little too much into the swing after all... His brow furrowing slightly in budding concern, Zoro took a half-step toward the couch, then froze as a balefully narrowed eye glared up at him from beneath tumbled dusty-gold bangs. His mind skittered away from the meaning of that look and off on a tangent. Because Zoro secretly envied Sanji the color of his hair. So rich and thick and smooth... and it always felt so good even when darkened and dampened by sweat when he ran it though his fingers like water after fucking holy hell out of the loud-mouthed cook... Which he hadn't had a chance to do in far, far too long recently. Damn this shared room.

"Which one did you use?" the object of his lustful thoughts asked in an oddly hushed voice. It wasn't a voice he thought he'd heard from the cook before -- at least not outside of deadly battle. Come to think of it, the last time had been against those Groggy Monster bastards right before they both beat hell out of them... and why would that be? He wanted Sanji and he thought he'd made his intentions perfectly plain to the cook before bashing him over the head and dragging his skinny ass down here...

Okay. Not so skinny. It was rather firm and muscular, actually. With a nice tightly rounded shape, so that both sides fit his cupped palms almost perfectly, giving him the exact grip he needed to...to... Oh crap, was he drooling?

Zoro wiped at his chin as casually as he could, his reply limited to, "Huh?" by the sudden urgent haze of sexual need.

"Which. Pan. Did. You. Hit. Me. With," Sanji repeated from between gritted teeth.

"Small black frying pan. Heavy. Did the job nicely," Zoro said, dropping his hands down to his haramaki ready to roll it down and get down to business. Hand jobs on the anchor deck weren't cutting it anymore - he needed inside the chef's tight, rounded ass again in the worst way. He glanced down at the long legs stretched out along the couch and nearly drooled. They wrapped so very nicely around his waist they did, those long, supple legs... Crap! He WAS drooling this time... Oh he needed it bad and he needed it soon. He'd make it good for the idiot cook too, of course -- he always did. Grinning in anticipation, Zoro let his gaze shift back up to Sanji's face. And abruptly all his swordsman's instincts went into high gear, backing off his raging libido a fraction too late.

"Cast iron. Seasoned perfectly. Never been washed in detergent, only wiped clean with sand. Perfect size and weight for bacon or salted meats - once it gets to temperature I never have to touch it again." Sanji was sitting up. Pulling off his coat. Running his long fingers through that thick, rich hair slowly, almost sensuously... and if every warning nerve in Zoro's body hadn't already been twanging, he would have been able to appreciate the view more.

"And you... _used it_..." Zoro winced at the pure venom in those two innocuous little words.

He found himself backing away from the couch carefully. Suddenly and completely and intimately aware of the utter idiocy of his mistake - fucking hormones! - (hand jobs on the anchor deck were looking far more attractive now...) his hands rising in front of him, spreading wide in a casual way as Sanji climbed very slowly and deliberately to his feet.

The golden head was bowed, the husky voice leaping up in volume, "And you USED it... my BEST frying pan. As a _weapon_. In MY _KITCHEN_!!!!"

He didn't run. Dodging wasn't running; it was a sound, honorable, _essential_ battle tactic. So was maneuvering for position. Everyone did it. So what if his position ended up being the crow's nest at the top of the main mast. The high ground was a good thing to hold in any conflict -- even if his moral footing there was decidedly lacking at the moment. He should have known the cook would get pissed about the pan more than being knocked unconscious. He looked around the crow's nest, mildly surprised to find that neither Usopp nor Chopper had taken refuge up here first. He had it all to himself up here.

If it stayed 'up here', of course. Hmmm... Going Merry was already pretty battered... maybe he should have hidden somewhere else.

There was a sharp thump against the base of the mast: he could feel the quiver shake the crow's nest ominously, confirming his thoughts. "You fucking _bastard_! You utter _moronic_ idiot! You _mannerless_ , uncultured barbarian! You seaweed-headed muscle-bound _dick-for-brains_!! Get down here so I can KILLLL _YOUUUUU_!!"

Not exactly original insults, but what they lacked in creativity and originality they more than made up for in sheer volume. It was pretty freakish how someone who chain-smoked almost semi-religiously could have that kind of lung power, if you thought about it.

But then the cook always displayed that kind of stamina when he went down on Zoro too...

Sudden silence fell. Wiping away another thread of drool, Zoro risked a peek over the side of the crow's nest.

Ah. Nami. Of course. She'd come out of somewhere and was speaking sternly to Sanji down there on the deck. Waving a finger in his face, one hand cocked dramatically on a lush hip. Warning him not to destroy their only means of transport through the Grand Line, no doubt. And there were doubtless disgusting hearts floating in the other man's eyes already. Annoyance made him sneer and shift his gaze away from the now almost certainly diffused threat. He caught sight of Usopp and Chopper peeking warily around the doorway of the main cabin and frowned. They'd doubtless run straight to Nami to stop Sanji's rampage.

And it worked too. _Damn it._ Every fucking time.

With a snort he slumped back down inside the crow's nest, forearms draped over knees, hands in fists. Silence continued to radiate from the deck below. Not ominous or anything, justunnatural. He'd seen Luffy still sprawled out on the figurehead, dead asleep. Totally ignoring the screams and shaking mast and fury on the decks behind him. Not that he needed Luffy's help to deal with that pussy-whipped love cook, after all.

He felt the tremor of someone climbing the rigging. Bounced up to see a decidedly stone-faced Sanji climbing toward him. In his shirtsleeves. With the cuffs rolled up and the top two buttons of the blue shirt opened, tie long gone. He swallowed hard, staring. Then his hand went instinctively toward the spot where his three swords usually hung, flexed there on empty air futilely a moment before dropping away in a precautionary fist.

He swallowed again. Moved away to allow them both room to maneuver as Sanji reached the top and swung himself neatly inside the narrow space, sinking down on his haunches like Zoro. There was the sharp scratch of a match as Sanji lit a cigarette. Took a deep drag. Blew a hard, fast stream of smoke away from Zoro. Then an eye glittered at him from beneath wind-tossed bangs.

"Fucker," Sanji said, his tone conversational. Almost pleasant. Then he jerked his chin toward the sea surrounding the ship. "Touch my kitchen tools again and I throw that white sword of yours overboard with an anchor tied on it - no matter what Nami-san says about how valuable it is."

Zoro snarled automatically, bristling. "Touch it and you die, idiot cook."

"Back at you, shitty swordsman. Only warning." There were several fierce, long puffs on the cigarette that left a brief haze of smoke around the other man's head, then the butt was falling to the floor as Sanji lunged across the crow's nest at him. Long, clever hands latched around his throat, and he found his head being pounded into the shaft of the mast where it stuck up through the platform's middle repeatedly. And hard. Hard enough to _hurt_.

"I can't believe you dared to fucking hit me with _my frying pan_ just because you're HORNY! You pathetic loser bastard! Can't you fucking wait at least until after _dinner_?!"

Eyes blazing with fury. Golden hair flying. Smoke-yellowed teeth gritted. Stubbornly set jaw shoved nearly in his face. The bastard was trying to kill him. For real!

His hands shot up, gripped the wrists strangling him tightly and pulled apart, hard. Then harder. Until finally he yanked Sanji's hands away from his neck and down to his shoulders. Coughed once for air. Then snapped one arm around the other man's waist and dragged him sharply down into his lap. And there was that tight, delicious ass pressed right atop his aching cock... at last.

The groan slipped out before he could stop it. He tightened his arm and the cook's hands on his shoulders gripped harder in response as he leaned forward. Mouth to mouth now, smoke-sharp breath washing over him. Moist heat. Then the fleeting tingle of lips brushing as heads shifted and eyes flickered beneath heavy, lowering lids.

"No," he murmured leaning in until flesh touched completely at last. "I can't."

~*~*~*~

After fifteen minutes without any sign that body parts or pieces of the ship's rigging were going to start raining down upon the deck, Usopp and Chopper finally dared poke their heads all the way out of the main cabin door. But not far. And they kept casting nervous looks skyward. Toward the crow's nest.

Nami was sitting at the base of the mast, her shoulders set square against the tall, once-mended shaft as she calmly flipped through yesterday's paper. She was humming to herself and the expression on her face was decidedly gleeful. That, more than the ominous silence above, was feeding Usopp and Chopper's continued nerves.

After a few minutes, Nico Robin moved gracefully through the thriving mikan trees on the top deck to lean on the inside railing. She cradled her chin in one hand (one of her real ones) as she smiled her slow, infinitely amused smile down at Nami.

"Crisis over?"

Nami looked up from her paper, glancing up toward the silent crow's nest above significantly before rolling her eyes at Robin.

"For the moment." Nami sighed dramatically and shrugged. "Stupid men. 'If you can't wait hit him over the head with a frying pan and drag him off...' Who knew Zoro'd take my little suggestion so literally?" She grinned wickedly and laughed. "He must have been harder-up than I thought. It's only been a week since we left port; Sanji-kun must keep him on a short leash at sea." She smiled, eyes gleaming. "Can't say I blame him, 'tho... the walls are awfully thin even in the anchor locker."

Usopp and Chopper both gasped at her in horror, their jaws flat on the deck. Robin just looked at her blankly for a moment, then laughed slow and long, her dark eyes sparkling with fondness. And Nami felt a hidden hand stroke along her bare back from the mast, wood-cool and gentle.

"Oh my, you are a truly wicked girl, aren't you?" Robin said, her voice rich with amusement.

Nami grinned back at her cheekily, her gaze fond too, but glazing a little with desire. Still painfully aware that Usopp and Chopper were there and trying valiantly to shove their popped-out-from-shock eyes back in their sockets over her words.

"Yes. Yes I am," Nami said to her lover. "But you already know that, don't you?"

~*owari*~


End file.
